My Dear Prince
by coffeelatte
Summary: The 'love at first sight' ideal is an urban legend shared amongst hopeful hearts and starry-eyed lovers worldwide; but when she's under the impression that Fuji Shusuke is a girl, crossdressing in order to join the boys' tennis team, perhaps 'love at first sight' isn't exactly the proper term for it. Tezuka has a new migraine. FujiOC. Written for TheLostRelic.


**A/N:** Seriously guys. Don't kill me. I know I have like 1000 stories. If it makes you guys feel better, this is actually the new and improved rendition of my long-ago story, "Princely Princess"? 8'D Omg, seriously though, I'm sorry I have so many multi-chaptered fics. I love you all. ; A ;

This is my contribution to the growing trend of 'crossdressing to join the boys' team' fics – but I've added my own coffeelatte spin on it, as usual, and I think that you guys will find it a bit humorous (hopefully). Hehe. ^.^ As always, I love your reviews and feedback, so do tell me what you think, yes? HAHA.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the beauty that is PoT.

**Dedication:** This fic is written for TheLostRelic – he's a ridiculously talented Percy Jackson fandom fanfiction writer, so if any of you are into that, do go visit his profile. He also has an amazing FujiOCTezuka fic, featuring one of fyerigurl's OCs from her story, To Catch a Falling Star – so do check that out, too. HAHA.

* * *

In his second year of high school, Fuji Shusuke had, predictably, enrolled himself in Seishun Gakuen's high school division; Yuuta, despite his elder brother's insistent urging (and borderline whining), had carried on to attend St. Rudolph's high school institution. Fuji continued on in Seigaku's tennis team, as Yuuta did in his own; Yuuta continued to avoid his brother like the plague whenever he could, despite the fact that sometimes, the elder Fuji would arrive on campus to _pick him up_, with a smile and an innocent wave. Yuuta had figured that he ought to cut his losses and consider it a win, because at least aniki wasn't stalking his tennis practices the way he used to, claiming 'unsavory intents' from Mizuki-senpai.

Still. Nothing could have prepared him for the ultimate disaster that struck halfway through his first year.

He'd decided to join the theater club that year, half because Mizuki-senpai had kept droning on and on about how it was a beautiful culmination of arts and poise, and half because it gave him stuff to do after school when he didn't have tennis practice, providing additional excuses to go home late. The school play – a classic rendition of Snow White – had been set to open the following week; Yuuta had been devoting much afterschool hours in the theater room, helping to paint sets and glue decorations.

"Um, guys, we have a problem." The club president – a harried third year girl, with wire-rimmed glasses and a less-than-sane gleam to her eyes – rushed into the room, wringing a script in her calloused hands. Yuuta shrugged and resumed trying to glue the damnable beads onto the fabric.

"Snow White is dead."

Yuuta spluttered, then, alongside thirty four other members of the club; his wide disbelieving eyes rose to stare at the president. The president sighed in response and rolled her eyes. "Figuratively. She died, figuratively, you morons," she sighed with a dreaded tinge to her voice – as if exasperated with them. "Are we theater folks, or are we not?"

Yuuta held in the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he returned to his beading with a grumble.

"The stupid girl got chicken pox – who the hell gets chicken pox, anyway? Boo hoo, suck it up."

At that point, Yuuta shot the president another bewildered glance.

"Who lets chicken pox keep them from the greatest stage of their lives? _Wusses._"

…Right.

"We need a new Snow White, people- People! _I need a Snow White right now, damnit-_"

Yuuta wasn't exactly a die-hard member of the club; to tell the truth, he was kind of just going along and being a background member just so he could avoid getting home for at least a few hours. If the play fell through, then that sucked, but he couldn't really find it in himself to care. After all, the club had served its purpose for-

"Yuuta?"

He felt his blood run cold. Yuuta redoubled his concentration on his beading, pushing the edge of hysterics to the back of his mind – because there was no way _he_ would be here-

"Ah, Yuuta. There you are." The voice was closer this time.

Yuuta felt his heart drop to the pits of his stomach. His fingers trembled as he beaded even faster-

"Beading, Yuuta? How multi-talented you are," the soft voice murmured, directly in front of him this time. With wide, trembling eyes, Yuuta raised his gaze – and balked, once he saw what was in front of him: Fuji Shusuke, crouched disgustingly cheerily on the floor, a wide smile on his lips. "Why didn't you tell me you were in the theater club?"

_Because_, Yuuta wants to say,_ because this would happen_-

"Fuji!" And this time, it is the president's voice screeching his name; Yuuta heard rapid, almost rabid, clicks of heels along the floor right afterwards. It came to a stop just beside him.

Both Yuuta and Shusuke looked upwards – Yuuta, with a hint of apprehension, and Shusuke, with all the bright happiness of the sun – at the club president. She grinned widely at both of them. "Who is this, Fuji?" she asked, and Yuuta could swear he heard something disturbing in his tone-

"Fuji Shusuke – I'm Yuuta's elder brother. Thank you so much for taking good care of him," Shusuke smiled prettily, grasped the girl's hand, and Yuuta knew that in that moment, he'd already charmed his way into the president's good graces. He watched the president reduce herself to a puddle of goo, giggling and flushing red and batting her eyelashes at Shusuke.

Yuuta wants to vomit at the innocence screaming from his older brother's features, because he is anything _but_ innocent-

"Ah, forgive my intrusion – but is there something wrong?" Shusuke asks, then.

"Oh," the president sighs sadly. "Our Snow White just came down with a case of chicken pox, and can't do the show." Another dramatic sigh. "We might have to cancel the show."

"Oh, dear," Shusuke murmurs in serious agreement.

"If only someone as pretty as you could take her place-" Yuuta, from his position on the floor, feels a hint of cold apprehension creep into his bones. And then, when the president _gasps_, he knows he's officially fucked.

"Fuji-san, I know this is sudden, but- would you maybe-"

No. No, no, no. Yuuta's eyes have bugged out of their sockets, and a horrified line has drawn itself over his lips. _No_, he wants to scream, but his voice is stuck somewhere between terror and panic.

"Ah- play Snow White?" Shusuke asks, thoughtful. He turns calculating eyes to Yuuta, and Yuuta frantically shakes his head back and forth, until he feels dizzy. Shusuke's smile widens. Yuuta's heart drops just a little more into the pits of despair.

"I'm not sure if I'd be very good, but I'd be glad to help out my Yuuta's club."

_Fuck._

Between the president's giggles and Shusuke's bright smile and the club's claps of approval, Yuuta is sure that he's left reality somewhere back in the third dimension, and has stepped into his own personal hell.

…Fuck.

* * *

Yuuta adamantly refused to speak to Shusuke for the following four days. Shusuke only smiled and sighed about 'puberty' and 'that teenage rebellious stage,' and Yumiko-nee agreed with fond affection in her voice. Yuuta wanted to scream.

When his aniki has memorized the script perfectly in less than three hours, the urge to scream grows.

Fucking geniuses.

* * *

The next week, Shusuke arrived at St. Rudolph after school for his final 'costume fitting.' He smiled beatifically at Yuuta, who promptly glowered and huffed and stomped away; in the next moment, he was whisked away by the president, who shoved a mound of fluff and frills into his arms and pushed him into an empty room to change. "Asami will be by soon to get it fitted," he heard the president's muffled voice through the door.

He didn't quite know who Asami was, but Shusuke figured he'd soon find out. He proceeded to strip down and pull on the dress – which was surprisingly well made – and had just slipped his arms through the sleeves, when the door swung energetically open.

He'd yet to zip up the back, and the bare skin of his back met the gaze of whoever had entered.

"Ah, hi! You must be our new Snow White I've been hearing so much about," he heard a feminine voice, and turned around to face her with a smile.

She wore the St. Rudolph girls' uniform, though without the blazer, and the white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a thin tank underneath; she held a long yellow measuring tape in one hand, and her other hand held what looked to be a glass box of pins. Long, pale brown hair was swept to one side of her shoulder, and Shusuke found his eyes glancing momentarily at her bright pink nails. A second year badge was secured onto her shirt.

This was Asami, he realized.

And for another moment, he pondered the audacity of the girl who simply strolled in whilst a _guy_ was changing. Nevertheless, he smiled.

"I didn't know Yuuta had such a pretty older sister, though," the girl continued on, with hardly a missed beat. She bolstered on forwards, and with her manicured hands, adjusted Shusuke so that she could zip up his dress. "Ooh, perfect fit here. Nice."

…

A pause.

Older _sister_?

Being a genius meant that one possessed intellectual capabilities far above the norm – an example of such, his previous displayed ability to have memorized an entire script by reading through the words a grand total of two times. Fuji Shusuke was used to being smarter than most, to effortlessly completing so-called difficult tasks with hardly the bat of an eye; with an IQ of 160, he was, undoubtedly, one of the most intelligent persons most have ever met.

So in this moment, Shusuke did not stutter, or balk, the way Yuuta may have – or anyone with any semblance of normality. Instead, he took this in stride, and in a matter of seconds, he'd already assimilated a variety of possible responses, as well as their ensuing results.

He could, he supposed, correct her mistake. He could reveal that he was not a girl, but rather, a fully functioning male, and relish in what would probably be the resultant mass of stuttering and apologies she'd give.

He could.

Could, being the operative word.

_Or_, he could have a little fun.

It'd been a while since he'd been able to mess with someone to the full, genuine extent he'd wanted to, ever since Echizen had grown used to him. Shusuke hadn't had some fresh meat to play with for a period of time, now, and really, it couldn't possibly hurt to just-

"Ah, Yuuta doesn't much like talking about me, I'm afraid," Shusuke murmured.

Asami tsk'ed beside him. "Yuuta-kun can be so mean," she laughed, jokingly.

They passed the next few minutes in silence, as Asami pinched at various corners and seams of the dress. "You have such a nice body proportion," she murmured, once, and Shusuke's smile widened as he thanked her.

And then, she stepped back, and gave him a wink. "Okay! It's all done – I have to go do some other fittings, so just take off the dress carefully and hand it to someone outside, okay?"

"Alright."

Asami gave one last cheerful wave and a "Good luck! You'll do great," before whisking out of the room.

Shusuke chuckled quietly.

* * *

The following week, Shusuke performed beautifully, flawlessly in the school play. In fact, so many were enamoured with him, that for weeks after, many boys continued to follow theater club members around in the hopes to learn 'her' identity. The president merely deflected all inquiries with a haughty turn of her nose and an increasingly smug slash terrifying grin.

Yuuta, in the meantime, just prayed to whatever deity there may be that nobody revealed that Snow White was, in fact, his older brother – because _that_ would be the effective end of any high school life he could have had.

Shusuke only smiled serenely, and ordered a stack of wallet sized copies of the pictures of Snow White that were being laundered around St. Rudolph (much to Yumiko's delight and Yuuta's abhorrence).

Every once in a while, Shusuke would wonder about Asami, and lament that he hadn't had time to play with her a bit further. Still, he thinks that perhaps it's for the best – after all, Yuuta had only _just_ started talking to him again.

* * *

**NEXT YEAR**

Asami hadn't known what to say when her parents had promptly informed her that they were moving – both houses, and schools. She couldn't have said anything, not really; they'd found their beautiful dream house, and it had happened to be a little too far from St. Rudolph, and a little too close to 'Seishun Gakuen.' So the following school year, she'd withdrawn from St. Rudolph and enrolled into Seigaku for her third year of high school – and that was that.

She'd passed her first day without much ado; she wasn't exactly a transfer student, seeing as how she'd started off at the beginning of the year. Though she didn't know anyone, she'd managed to make a few friends with a friendly smile and an introduction of herself, and Seigaku wasn't so bad all in all. After all, she ought to make the best of every situation, right?

And so, Asami exited the school building now with a cheery wave to her newfound friends, and set off towards the gates to walk home.

That is, that had been her plan – until she'd caught a vaguely familiar face.

It was a face that was awfully hard to forget, especially considering how boys had gone _crazy_ over it for the remnant of her second year back at St. Rudolph. Yuuta's older sister – whose name she hadn't quite caught, that time.

Ah, ah. Asami didn't know she attended Seigaku, too!

She was alone, and Asami quickly made her way up to the girl- and without a moment of hesitation, tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey-!" Asami greeted, a smile on her lips. "Do you remember me? I fitted your dress for the school play at St. Rudolph last year-?"

And it was only when the girl fully turned around to face Asami, that Asami noticed _one_ particular detail.

_She_ was wearing the boys' uniform.

At that, Asami's smile slowly faded; for a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten the wrong person. But no, no, she was quite sure that this face was- "…Aren't you a girl?"

* * *

Fuji Shusuke had started off the school year as charmingly as ever. He'd arrived on campus, serenely greeted the group of girls who had staunchly labeled themselves his 'fans' (though they were more like stalkers, really), and proceeded to tease and flit about Tezuka for a while, until homeroom began. He gracefully swept through the day as easily as any other, and when school ended, he'd taken his time walking over to the courts.

It had been a while since he'd gotten to taste Inui's newest concoctions, and that was always something to look forward to.

And in this manner, he'd continued on – until he felt a light tap at his shoulder. At that, Shusuke turned.

And came face to face with a _very much_ welcomed familiar person.

And thanks to his genius IQ and certifiably bona fide 'poker face,' Shusuke managed to take this all in stride: the fact that the girl was here, and wearing a Seigaku uniform – lending itself to the theory that she was now a student hear; the fact that she'd greeted him and recognized him; the fact that she now also noticed his boys' uniform.

It was now that once more, Shusuke had quickly assimilated all possible routes of action, and their following repercussions, if any.

He _could_ admit to her now that he was a boy, and that he'd only played Snow White to help out his little brother. That he hadn't meant to fool her, and had simply let her go on believing, just because he didn't want to embarrass her.

He could.

Could, being the operative word.

_Or_, he could have a little fun. Shusuke's lips quickly turned upwards into a delighted smile. After all, the charm had worn off of teasing Tezuka and Echizen; they had spent too many years knowing Shusuke for them to _really_ be amusing the way Shusuke hoped they would be. It was the beginning of the school year, after all – a time for new beginnings.

And this could, quite possibly, be the most amusing of all years, if he played his cards right.

Shusuke's smile widened.

"Ah, Asami-chan," he greeted in turn. He'd liked to have referenced her by her last name, but he only knew her first name, so he'd had to make do.

Asami's brows rose, and a hesitant smile remained on her lips. "Um. Your uniform-"

Shusuke pulled her in, then, allowing an expression of seriousness to take over his features. "I have something to confess."

And girl code dictated that when one girl had a secret to confess to another, the other girl must instantly return the gesture with a promise of secrecy. It was a bit silly, Shusuke always thought, the way girls instantly bonded over secrets – as though they solidified some form of an unshakable bond in a way that only secrets could. Still, it worked this time.

Asami leaned in, wide eyes and a serious expression in turn. "Yeah?"

"I…"

Asami nodded encouragingly.

"See, I wanted to test myself, and join the _boys_ tennis team, here – they're known to be really good, did you know?"

Asami's eyes widened.

Shusuke's blood thrummed through his veins.

"And the only way I could, would be to actually _be_ a guy – so I enrolled as a male student, and joined the team. And ever since then, well…" Shusuke trailed off strategically, then, and allowed Asami's mind to fill in the blanks.

He watched Asami's eyes grow bigger, bigger, lip-glossed lips parting to signify her sheer surprise.

And then, Asami gripped his arm tightly, and leaned in a bit more. "Oh my god- seriously?"

Ah, well. Shusuke had actually reserved a bit of judgment on just how well his lie would go over – in fact, he'd half expected her to call him out on it, and he'd been fully prepared to laugh and produce the truth.

It was just his beautiful, darling luck to catch a prey that was _gullible._

His smile widened just a bit more.

"You've been _crossdressing_ this entire time?!" Asami half-shrieked, and Shusuke slapped a hand over his lips. He nodded gravely, seriously; if he'd opened his eyes, the delight and mirth twinkling in their depths would surely given him away.

Asami instantaneously lowered her voice. "Oh my god!" she whispered furiously. "That's crazy!"

Shusuke's lips hardly twitched. People always did tell him he had a flawless poker face.

Inwardly, his delight grew by margins.

"This is like- this is like some _shoujo manga_!" Asami whispered again, and this time, a gleam of excitement had taken over her eyes.

Shusuke feigned a blush (oh, he was too talented, really). "Is it?"

Asami nodded vigorously.

"Oh, right- what's your name, by the way?" she seemed to remember the importance of actually knowing what his name was.

"Yumiko. Ah, but- I go by Shusuke, here."

Asami nodded, eyes still wide, but complete and _total_ belief in her expression, as though she were eating up every single lie that spilled from his lips.

Flawless.

He ought to be a conman, or a grifter. Or perhaps an actor?

"Yumi- Shusuke!" Asami half-whispered, half-shrieked, and shook his arm slightly. She figured that after learning the girl's biggest secret, she was at least entitled to call her by her first name, no? "That's seriously- oh, my god. I can't believe this!"

At this point, Shusuke leaned in, all conspiracies and secrets and hush-hush. Asami followed, devouring the vibe.

"You won't tell anyone, right? You'll help me keep this a secret?"

Asami took this cue to nod vigorously, to the point where Shusuke was afraid her hairpin might fall right off. "Of course!"

She grasped his hand in hers, and shook it once more. "I'll totally help you out – you can count on me!"

Shusuke gave a relieved, weak smile.

He inwardly crowed. Oh, this was beautiful.

Beautiful.

Yuuta would very well kill him if he ever found out, but- what he didn't know wouldn't kill him, now would it?

* * *

READ. REVIEW. LOVE?


End file.
